Anesthesia
by Aeliia
Summary: Marco always comforts Jean.


_So I saw some info on this thing called sleep paralysis and I found it interesting and bam you have a fic. Anyways, sleep paralysis is where you sorta half wake up when you're sleeping at you can't move at all. Literally. Most of the time you see hallucinations (like shadow figures) if you open your eyes, so DON'T OPEN YOUR EYES IF YOU GET IT. It's some scary stuff._

_I guess I'll put kind of a trigger warning, just in case anybody has ever had it and would not like to read about it. So don't read this if it makes you feel uncomfortable. With that said, if anyone who has had sleep paralysis reads this and would like to correct me on anything that might be incorrect, I'll be glad to hear it. Now, read on!_

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Jean woke, but he was not fully awake. It was somewhere between wake and rest. He was conscious, but not fully so. It was an odd feeling—but not as odd as not being able to move his body. He couldn't move any of his limbs. They felt as heavy as rocks.

But that wasn't all. It felt as if there were some sort of… _presence _in the room. He knew that seemed stupid; after all, it was a barrack filled with over fifty other boys. Saying presence was the wrong word. It was more like an entity.

Jean could feel it. He slowly cracked one eye open, then another, and carefully looked around the room. Nothing.

_You're just imagining it, _he told himself.

As he was about to shut his eyes and do his best to ignore the feeling of paralysis, something moving out of the corner of his vision snagged his attention.

He couldn't whip his head around to see it, but he didn't have to. His heartbeat picked up as this _dark figure moved towards him. _It was coming closer. It was completely black, as if made from pure shadows. It had no distinguishable features aside from arms, legs, and a head, but was recognizably human. The brunet's breathing became frantic when it stopped at the end of his bunk.

He couldn't move. He couldn't scream. He couldn't do anything; nothing at all. He was too frightened to close his eyes, watching as a dark arm crept closer to him. It slapped two hands down quickly on Jean's legs, but he couldn't cry out. He could only watch as it stood still for a moment, then begin to violently shake him.

_What is this?!_

Jean was almost hyperventilating now. The creature still shook him, rattling the bed as his paralyzed body jerked back and forth on the hard mattress. How could Marco, who was sleeping right next to him, or none of the others hear this? What _was _this thing? Why couldn't he move?

Then, another entity made itself known, radiating as much corrupt aura as the first. Even though Jean couldn't turn his head to look, he knew it had settled right by his head. It pressed closer, until he could feel its cold breath on his neck. It began to whisper rapidly, not forming any real words that he could understand.

It wouldn't stop. His throat became constricted, as if something were choking him. A heavy pressure settled on his chest, preventing him from taking the huge gulps of air he so desperately needed. Jean's heartbeat sped to the point to where he thought it would burst. The whispers and the shaking didn't let up. He was consumed by panic to the point to where he thought he would pass out.

Then, the whispering stopped abruptly. The figure shaking him paused, his vice grip never faltering, before yanking hard on his leg. Jean, once again, couldn't cry out as he felt like he was tossed to the ground. The room around him seemed to spin and tilt. Another one of the shadow creatures appeared—the one sitting on his chest. His blank face was nearly inches from Jean's, undetectable eyes burning into his soul.

Jean was finally able to close his eyes, numbness from shock coursing through his veins. The force on his chest began to subside, as well as his throat, and he was able to breath once again. He took deep, inhaling breaths as the other presences retreated. His legs were released. The coldness on his neck vanished. All was still.

He didn't want to open his eyes. He didn't want to see another dark, faceless figure right in front of him. It took him a while to steady his breathing and to realize he was no longer immobilized. Lifting a tentative arm, he slung it over his face and covered his eyes before daring to open them. Once he did, however, he moved it.

The room was still once again; no shadow figures in sight. Slowly, Jean's heartbeat began to slow down and he sat up. He had had nightmares before, but never that intense. He wasn't even sure what to call that.

Quietly, as if scared any noise at all would rouse the creatures that he worried lurked in the darkness of the crowded room, Jean turned over to face his bedmate.

Marco lie sleeping on his side, facing the wall, back towards Jean. The brunet shook him, mentally apologizing to his freckled friend for waking him up at whatever ungodly time in the morning it was.

"Jean…? What's going on?" Marco said with a yawn as he rolled over to look at said brunet.

"Y-yeah. Sorry to wake you," Jean stammered, his voice cracking at the end of his sentence. Why the hell was he about to cry?

Marco blinked his eyes, heavy with sleep. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, voice laced with worry. Even in the dark, Jean could see his chocolate brown eyes were full of concern. Propping himself up on his elbow, he took a closer look at Jean's face. "Did you have a nightmare?"

Jean nodded his head, cringing at how pathetic he must have looked. At least his body had regained all of its feeling and he was able to move again. The paralysis had been what scared him the most; not being able to fight back against those creatures was probably the worst part.

Thankfully, though, Marco didn't ask what happened. "Come here," he said, a weary smile on his face. Jean obliged, more than happy to be closer to him. Marco immediately wrapped his arms around Jean, encircling him completely like he was trying to make a barrier between him and the terror. Their legs became intertwined as Jean buried his face in Marco's chest before looking up at the freckled boy's own.

Marco smiled again and leaned in to press a kiss to Jean's lips. The brunet kissed back eagerly, capturing the other's mouth and keeping it to his. After a while, they broke apart, both of them panting for breath. Jean tucked his head under Marco's chin and they stayed like that, the black haired boy tilting his head down and kissing Jean's forehead.

Jean sighed contentedly, glad he wasn't facing the rest of the barracks. The shadow figures' faceless bodies still lingered in his mind, lurking like a predator stalking its prey. He would tell Marco about them in the morning, but not right now. He didn't want to relive them in the darkness.

"G'night, Jean," Marco murmured against his head, his warm breath calming his still on-edge nerves.

"Goodnight, Marco."

The two remained like that, sleeping entangled in each other's bodies until morning came. When Jean awoke this time, it was to the annoying bells signaling wake-up and, thankfully, not immobilization.

Even though the night had passed, he still lay in bed with fear for a solid week, not hesitating to wrap himself in Marco's awaiting arms. And even though the anesthesia had worn off, it sometimes felt like it was still there.

Even wrapped in Marco's arms, Jean lied in wait for the faceless creatures to come back.


End file.
